


in bloom

by cyrusbarrone



Category: Historical Criminals RPF, Legend (2015)
Genre: Bruises, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, lots of flower imagery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-07
Updated: 2016-02-07
Packaged: 2018-05-18 21:28:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5943708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cyrusbarrone/pseuds/cyrusbarrone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>those hands weren't workers hands, though they posed as them. </p><p>(Teddy binds Ronnie's hands after a fight)</p>
            </blockquote>





	in bloom

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is mainly inspired by a girl in my creative writing class who has a really imagery heavy style, aka the opposite of mine. i wanted to try something imagery based and i quite like the outcome ^^ (and i wanted to write some teddy/ronnie fic that didn't suck)
> 
> for andi, my gf. (gay friend)

His fingers were thick and rugged, gave off the appearance that his life was one of labour, that he did something that gave hard earned cash and a sense of professional pride. His lavish gold rings told a different story. They were shiny and new-looking and only had a few scuffs on, certainly not the rings of a man who hauled crates for a living. 

They were rough at the knuckles, though. The creases were filled with cracking red and brown, beyond that purple blossomed dully. Teddy pressed his thumb over the knuckle of his middle finger and blood oozed out wearily, bubbling to the surface of his skin before sinking into the channels of his hands. He brought his thumb to his lips and sucked the blood stain away.

The red would be rinsed away and those hands would be left in bloom. The petals full and violet would lose their colour, age and green and then die. The hands would be rugged but no longer thick with self-given injury. 

Teddy's hands are thin, slight. They look small and pale against Ron's. But they turn his thick wrists, let the palms face the Earth and those red creased knuckles the swinging light bulb. 

"Felt good," said Ron. His eyes were green and flecked but dull like the purple of his knuckles. His head tilted gently, like it was too heavy; a rain wet rose pulled double over its stork. "Felt nice."

Lithe fingers dabbed away the creased lines of blood, Teddy's fingertips were quickly tarnished a faded maroon. He'd suck his fingers of the drops, though, like chasing the last of slip of wine from a glass. 

"Tell me," requested Teddy. His eyes flickered from the hands, to the flecks of blood on his ironed collar. Looked at the full bloom of his lips, how they're plush from constant tonguing. "I'd like t'hear."

There had been days where Teddy’s own fingers had blossomed full with colour and their thin channels had creased with brown, drying blood. His hands still held the calluses, thickly ingrained like he'd rubbed his hands over stone. Faded though, their blooms long gone, now instead he looked to Ronnie for tales, for his lips gushing of fists against bone. 

"He'd been threatening us," said Ronnie, eyes blurring over with fog, lips thick and hanging open. "Saying he was gonna kill me and Reg."

Lots of people threatened him and his ring heavy hands. 

"And then what, Ron?" Teddy pressed cream into his knuckles, rubbing the pad of his thumb into it. The creases of knuckles brightened unnaturally in smears of white. The lavish rings formed finger prints and their gold lost a hue. 

"My boys followed him," replied Ron, his boys were like birds perched upon his shoulders, singing in his ears. His eyes were still muggy and lost. "They found out where he was going t'be." His hands flinched at the smeared cream, fingers were shaking like a leaf known to fall from its branch. 

He sets to bind the hands but the bandage rolls from Teddy's fingers, cream in colour it blots the navy of Ronnie's suit in medicinal brightness.

He snatched it before it was tainted in gritty dirt, stuck one end to the pink palm and begun to wrap until the petals disappeared and his hands were cupped and curved like paws. 

"What'd you do then, Ron?" a cat’s smile; flick of sharp brows. 

His wrapped faux-workers hands clasped, comic in their thickness - full like a poppy pushing its pod. "I pulled him out'a his chair, and I hit him until his face was all blood."

Those hands drop to Teddy's - thin and lithe and dotted in dried up blood - and clasped them loosely. They were pulled to his pink sweetened lips and his knuckles were kissed with a hint at solid teeth behind. Teddy's hands nudged against the plush set of Ron's lips, subtle bone against teeth, teeth that nipped into the knuckles of the bare length of Teddy's hands. 

Red bloomed underneath, unfurling like a poppy.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading !! please tell me what you thought c:
> 
> i can be found at docbossybeck.tumblr.com


End file.
